One Idiot, One Doctor, and a Baby
by TotallyUtterlySherlocked
Summary: A series of possible drabbles and/or possible plot featuring John, Sherlock, and their new daughter, Elisabetta. Parent!lock, Johnlock, established relationship. Slash and ludicrous amounts of fluff!
1. One Idiot, One Doctor, and a Baby

**A/N: Hello darlings!**

**I am a huge fan of parent!lock and I do so adore fluff. So I decided to start a series. Not sure if this'll be a continuous plot or just a collection of drabbles. We shall see. **

**This chapter is a lot of set-up and what not. **

**And yes, I know most stories give them a son named Hamish. But Sherlock and John would make wonderful dads to any little girl.**

**Also, this is probably to be assumed, but this is established Johnlock and FULL OF SLASH!**

**DISCLAIMER: Moffat, Gatiss, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle own everything; I do not. Please don't sue me!**

* * *

"John, I'm afraid."

He looked at Sherlock, concern etched on his features. The doctor's gaze flicked over to his partner's hands. _Oh God, he is._ Elegant violinist's fingers, which were usually steady as rocks, trembled.

John reached over and pressed his hands firmly to Sherlock's. "Calm," he murmured, gaze locked with the detective's. The wild look was still there. "I'm going to be rubbish at this," whispered Sherlock, voice threatening to shake.

John sighed. "Sherlock Holmes, you stop this right now." His tone left no room for argument. "John, how can I be a _father_? She's going to hate me." The detective bit his lip and looked down at his hands, entwined in his lap. John shook his head. "She's going to adore you, you git." Now Sherlock looked suspicious.

"Are you really going to make me list all your positive qualities and inflate your already dangerously high ego?" John tilted his head a little and smiled, just a hint of that dazzling grin that lit Sherlock's heart on fire.

Pretending to think seriously for a moment, Sherlock eventually shook his head. Eventually the corner of his lip quirked into a weak smile.

The cab rolled on until it lurched to a stop in front of St. Bart's. "'ere we are, lads!" The gap-toothed cabby grinned at them as they exited. "D'you mind maybe driving about for a bit? We'll be coming out quite soon with a bit of an, um, addition." John let the words tumble out of his mouth as he paid the cabby. He still found it difficult to talk about her, as though if he mentioned her she might disappear in a puff of smoke.

The older man just nodded. "Course not, mate. Be right 'round 'ere when you're through." And he drove off.

John looked at Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at John.

Both men looked down at their linked hands. Sherlock took a deep breath. "Ready?" His lover smiled.

"Never been more ready in my life," he answered.

* * *

It was dark when they emerged from the hospital, John carrying a baby carseat on one shoulder, still holding tightly onto Sherlock's hand. They looked adoringly down at the pink blanketed form in the seat.

"God, she's beautiful." John looked up, surprised at the emotion in Sherlock's voice. He was even more surprised when he saw tears rolling down those sharp cheekbones.

But the doctor only smiled.

"She's ours," he replied, getting into the cab after settling the carseat in, and Sherlock followed.

They both rested their hand protectively, but gently, on the pink blanket.

"Ah, so 'ere's the 'addition'." The cabby looked pleased. "What's 'er name?"

With pride in his voice, Sherlock answered promptly:

"Elisabetta Ingrid Holmes."


	2. Just Check Her Nappy!

**A/N: Hi guys!**

**Still haven't decided whether this is going to be continuous plot or drabbles. Sorry, just bear with me for a bit until my muses come to a consensus. At the moment my head is very noisy.**

**And please do review and tell me what you think! Reviews make me almost as happy as a perfectly fluffy Johnlock fic.**

**To my reviewer who asked where her name came from, I...admit it came from my own brain. I enjoy coming up with baby names for my non-existent future children. And I mean, Sherlock is a bit of an odd name; makes sense to have a child with a name that's a little different, no?**

**DISCLAIMER: Moffat, Gatiss, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle own everything; I do not. Please don't sue me.**

* * *

The wailing had gone on for less than five minutes, and Sherlock already felt the warning throbs of a headache coming on. "John, is she alright?" He hovered restlessly, like some great bird of prey, ready to snatch Lizzie up and away from his clearly incompetent love.

Said incompetent love just sighed, the sort of sigh that long-suffering men give in the midst of, well...long-sufferings. "Sherlock, you do realize babies cry?" Nodding. "And you realize they cry _a lot_, yes?" More nodding. Here John paused for a moment, Lizzie cradled in his lap while he sat on the sofa and Sherlock hovered in front of him.

"But what does she need? Clearly she's uncomforta-_oh_." John looked up. Blinked. "I think," began Sherlock, slowly, afraid of messing this up. "Maybe she needs to have her nappy changed?" His usual superior tone was replaced by this new hesitation.

What followed was quite possibly the longest awkward silence that had ever occurred in 221B. Finally, John rose and began his trek to the nursery. "Where are you going?" Sherlock followed close behind. The doctor sighed. "To change her, love."

* * *

They'd converted John's old room into the nursery. In spite of Sherlock's protests, the walls were a delicate shade of rose, and the room was filled with stuffed animals of every imaginable size.

Against one of the walls was a white crib, and it was filled only with a crib mattress and fitted sheet. John had insisted upon it, and tried to convey the idea of SIDS to the detective; who, of course promptly let the info leak out of his ears.

Both men now entered the room and John placed the squirming, wailing Lizzie onto the changing table. He kept one hand lightly on the center of her chest as he rifled about for a nappy and some baby wipes. Sherlock stood off to the side, staring thoughtfully at the baby in the room. _Their_ baby. "Sherlock,"

John certainly looked quite a sight. A nappy was clenched between his teeth as he awkwardly attempted to unbutton his daughter's onesie with one hand. Sherlock approached, then hovered uncertainly, hands poised and ready to do-

"OW!" John straightened and smacked himself rather firmly on the top of his head with Sherlock's hand. "Sorry, sorry," mumbled the detective.

The doctor fixed him with a Look. "Put your hand on her chest for me, would you?" "Why? Sherlock was baffled.

Another Look.

"To keep her from falling off the changing table," answered John tersely. He bent down to pick up the nappy he'd dropped when he'd hit his head on Sherlock's palm.

When he turned to the table, Lizzie lay there with everything visible from her waist down. Sherlock, it seemed, had already removed her soiled nappy and had cleaned her up (rather nicely) already. Sherlock glanced up to find John ready with the clean nappy. He reached out and plucked it out of the doctor's hand before lifting his daughter's bottom and sliding it under and fastening it.

"There we are," he murmured, scooping her off the table and cradling her against his shoulder. He bounced just a bit as he walked back out into the living room and rubbed her back soothingly.

It was a few minutes before John joined them. His eyes were red-rimmed and Sherlock immediately looked concerned. "Are you alright?" The doctor gave him a watery smile. "Yeah," he croaked. "But you were crying," Sherlock looked a mix of fear and worry. "Because I have no idea how I got so lucky," John said quietly. "You are so _good_ with her."

Sherlock smiled. "I guess I'm not horrid at this after all."

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**A/N: Sorry this took so long, guys. Homework got crazy, and then some things have been going on at school. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**DFTBA, darlings, :)**


	3. Perfectly Capable?

**A/N: Hi everyone. Sorry this chapter took so long to get out to you; I FINALLY learned how to use Tumblr not long ago, then I got distracted by smut.**

**So basically, I was just really lazy. I'm sorry, please to be forgiving? :)**

**DISCLAIMER: Moffat, Gatiss, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle own everything but Elisabetta; I do not. Please don't sue me.**

* * *

For once in his life, Sherlock Holmes was feeling very very un-appreciated.

"John, really, you can go to work. I will be fine with her." The consulting detective tried his hardest to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Besides, if anything happens, Mrs. Hudson is right downstairs." _And if worse comes to worse,_ he thought grudgingly, _Mycroft could have someone here in 30 seconds. Probably sooner._

Dr. Watson stood between the door and Sherlock. His head whipped between the two and his teeth worried at his bottom lip. "Sherlock, it's not that I don't trust you with her, because my God I do..." He took in a deep breath and blew it out between his teeth. "I just don't know if I'm ready to leave her yet. She only came home a week ago and I feel like if I go back now, I'll be abandoning her."

For once in his life, Sherlock Holmes was silent.

He left the room abruptly and John was just about to walk out the door when the detective returned with Lizzie cradled in his arms. He stopped in front of John and held his arms out.

John smiled and took his..._their_ daughter. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her clean, baby scent. When he looked up, it was to see Sherlock standing there looking more at ease with himself and the situation than John can ever recall seeing him.

Sherlock took their daughter back into his arms after giving John a quick peck on the cheek. He gestured at the door with his chin. "Go John, we will be absolutely fine. I promise."

The former army doctor just let out a sigh. "Alright, but you swear you'll text if you need me?" Sherlock was gently herding him toward the door. "Yes John," the detective replied. "And that if anything really bad happens, you'll let Mrs. Hudson or, God forbid, Mycroft help?" John narrowed his eyes at the detective as he felt himself being pushed out the door. "Yes John," repeated Sherlock.

"I'll be home by six so don't worry about-" John suddenly found himself at a loss for words. "Yes John. Good-bye John." The words were whispered in his ear in a tone so sinfully, blatantly _sexual_ and nearly below his hearing threshold that the doctor was tempted to cover Lizzie's ears.

John gaped at the detective until, quite unceremoniously, the door was shut in his face.

* * *

When John returned, the flat looked as though it had been ransacked. Pillows were strewn about the floor, the table was on its side, and the kitchen looked like a warzone with plates, pots, and pans everywhere.

"Sherlock?" He called, hesitant, in case someone was still inside.

"In here," came the weary sounding voice. Following it, John was greeted with a most unusual sight: Sherlock was perched on the toilet, running the bathtub with the drain unplugged, cradling a seemingly hysterical Lizzie to his shoulder. He met John's eyes and for just a minute, John could see relief. But then Sherlock looked incredibly concerned.

"How long has she been crying?" It took less than 30 seconds for Sherlock to answer. Good then, at least Sherlock's mind still moved at the speed of light when it came to logic. "3 hours," the detective replied, sounding beyond exhausted.

"Give her here," murmured John soothingly, taking the baby before Sherlock had the chance to move. "Shhh, sweetheart, you're alright, Daddy's here." Sherlock thumped his head back 'til it rested against the wall and shut his eyes, massaging his temples with practiced fingers.

Lizzie wailed for a few long minutes until finally, she stopped. Just like that.

Both men enjoyed the silence until-

*PBBBBBBBBHT*

John, who was holding the now cooing infant, realized her bottom half now seemed quite a lot heavier than it had a few moments ago.

Sherlock looked up in surprise. "She only needed a poo?" He asked in a tone that was half hesitant and half irritated. John found himself, once again, at a loss for words. "Evidently yes." He leaned down to kiss Sherlock soundly on the lips. "I'll go change her. Why don't you make some tea and a bottle and after I feed her and put her to bed, we can clean this place up?" Sherlock groaned and John chuckled all the way to the nursery.

* * *

**A/N: Because poop is funny; even when you're two grown men or (in my case) a seventeen year old girl. Reviews make me smile, so please type one in that lovely blank box down there!**

**DFTBA loves! :)**


	4. Lizzie's First Experiment

**A/N: Hello my darlings!**

**Sorry I haven't updated this in a while. Life's been a little nutty. I think I've decided on random little drabbles for this fic. I want to be able to jump around a bit chronologically.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"No, I will NOT eat my peas!"

John looked at Sherlock across the table. "Daddy never eats _his_ peas, Papa." Lizzie crossed her little arms firmly across her chest.

"That's because your daddy is a stubborn, foolish man." John replied with only a dash of exasperation. Sherlock rolled his eyes, then reached over to spear a pea with Lizzie's little plastic fork. "Peas are rich in fiber and protein, Lizzie, they're wonderfully good for you." When she turned away with a huff, Sherlock visibly shuddered at the horrid words that had just passed his lips.

"Sherlock, come with me for a second," said John suddenly, standing up. When Lizzie, too, began to rise, John shook his head. "Ah ah ah," he tutted. "You sit right there young lady."

"Really John, what kind of foolishness is this?" Sherlock demanded once the pair had shut themselves in the bathroom. "I have a plan, you idiot." John retorted. Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Please, do share," he snarked in a vaguely sarcastic tone.

"I think we need to break out the big guns, as they say."

Sherlock blinked at him for a bit. Then he gasped. "Are you saying that we're-" "Yes."

* * *

The men returned to the kitchen. Foolishly, John hoped that maybe Lizzie was only avoiding her peas because he and Sherlock were there. Nope. All the peas were still there.

After standing there for a few minutes, John elbowed Sherlock neatly in the ribs. "Ow," the detective murmured, rubbing his side. The doctor looked pointedly at their daughter. With a great heaving sigh, Sherlock stood over Lizzie, who looked up at him with her little arms still folded across her chest. "Lizzie, darling, if you don't eat your peas, you won't be able to have any dessert." Those eyes, so like John's, widened in shock. "No dessert?" Lizzie asked in abject horror.

Sherlock shook his head. "Not unless you eat your peas." "But-" "Eat," John interjected. "The sooner you finish, the sooner we'll get dessert." Grumbling all the while, their daughter tossed blonde curls behind her shoulders. Slowly and grudgingly, the peas began to disappear. Sherlock glared at John the entire time, and John simply smiled back at him.

"There," huffed Lizzie after a few tense minutes with a grimace of those children most aggrieved when they're forced to eat vegetables. "They're gone. Can we have ice cream now?" Sherlock rose an eyebrow questioningly and John nodded in response. "Yes, we can my dear." John shot him another pointed look. "But, Elisabetta Ingrid, you MUST promise to eat your vegetables from now on," the detective said, rising and opening the refrigerator. "OK, Daddy," she answered cheerfully. John looked perplexed.

"You'll always eat them then?" He couldn't resist asking. "Uh-huh!" Lizzie replied, grinning. "Did you-" John stopped. He slowly swiveled his head to look at Sherlock, who was hiding a smirk (poorly). "You...but...this was an experiment!?" Their daughter nodded. "My first ever!"

After Sherlock had finished scooping ice cream into bowls and had sat down at the table, John promptly swatted his head. "I thought you promised no more experimenting on me!" Sherlock adopted a look of perfect innocence. "I did. It was all Lizzie's idea."

"Oh God," groaned John, laying his head face down on the table. "There's two of you now."

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**A/N: I AM SO SORRY! Life got crazy and this fic got away from me. Please forgive me and please review!**

**DFTBA darlings, :)**


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